


the last turn i take

by gealbhan



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Marriage, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gealbhan/pseuds/gealbhan
Summary: A knock on the door draws Glimmer out of her thoughts. Bow pokes his head in and stage whispers, “Hey, you’ve got a visitor.”Glimmer nods, strained, and drops her gaze back to the floor she’s wearing several holes in before she can see said visitor. The door shuts. Glimmer waits.“Hello,” says her mother. “I suppose I should have asked before coming in, but—”





	the last turn i take

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 6 of [glimadora week](https://glimadora-week.tumblr.com/): the future! (and posted very late bc i straight-up forgot to edit it until now) also, as a note, glimmer has full-grown wings here bc i love that hc
> 
> title is from five for fighting's "road to you." enjoy!

Glimmer is pacing.

She has been for the past twenty minutes, actually; she’d begun this brisk back-and-forth walk as soon as Bow got finished helping her get all of her fineries on. Her clammy hands wring at chest-level as she walks the perimeter of her suite. Every now and then, she stops, but before long, she resumes pacing at a higher speed.

She understands why people do this during strategy meetings sometimes now—it’s a good way to get rid of excess energy. In her case, though, none of her nerves seem to be going away. Instead, as time whittles away, they’re increasing tenfold.

She wonders how much time _has_ passed. Is it almost time? Are they waiting for her? Is—

A knock on the door draws Glimmer out of her thoughts. Bow pokes his head in and stage whispers, “Hey, you’ve got a visitor.”

…Huh. Glimmer nods, strained, and drops her gaze back to the floor she’s wearing several holes in before she can see said visitor. The door shuts.

Glimmer stops walking. She waits.

“Hello,” says her mother. With barely-stifled surprise, Glimmer whirls around. Queen Angella looks as timeless as ever, clad in a flowing purple dress and with her hair done in elegant knots. She looks more suited for this event than Glimmer herself. “I suppose I should have asked before coming in, but—”

“It’s all right,” says Glimmer, managing to keep her feet still and her tone pleasant, if clipped.

Angella blinks but says nothing. Glimmer’s wings beat against the air—she holds to the ground, gritting her teeth, though now that she thinks about it, pacing in the air would look cooler _and_ be less detrimental to the carpet.

No, wait, what is she thinking? Glimmer smiles in an attempt to look less nervous than she is. “Um, what did you need? Is it starting?” (She’s not ready, not quite yet—)

Angella waves her hands. “No, no, not for several minutes. I just wanted to talk to you, Glimmer.” She gives Glimmer a meaningful look, one that makes her heart rate increase about fifty beats per minute. Then she blinks again. “You—um, you’re sweating quite a lot, you know. Are you all right?”

“Sheesh, Mom, I’m fine.” Glimmer flings her hands up in a way that does not convey _fine_. “Just getting married in ten minutes.”

Her voice goes shrill at the end, and Glimmer freezes— _she’s getting married_.

She’s really getting married. For love, no less, which is—well, given her parents’ marriage, not _un_ common of the royal family, but it’s still less than traditional. Somehow, Glimmer had sat through a million council meetings about her and Adora’s union and a billion more personal meetings about the wedding itself without thinking in depth about how she would be _married_ by the end of this. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be married—of course it’s not that, she’s been looking forward to this since Adora proposed months and months ago. (Since they first started dating years ago, if she’s being honest.)

It’s just—

Glimmer sinks to the floor in a heap of limbs. She tucks her knees against her chest, shifting so her dress isn’t in a haphazard position against the ground, and wraps her arms around them.

Angella wordlessly comes to sit beside her. Rather than taking a clumsy and rather undignified position, she folds her legs and rests her palms in her lap. “You know,” she says, looking to the ceiling, “I was a wreck on _my_ wedding day.” Glimmer tilts her head toward Angella, who laughs, a little sad, and wipes the gathering moisture from her eye. “I kept flying around while my mother and your aunt were trying to get me ready. More than once, I outright tried to leave the palace through a window. Casapela had to hold me down.”

She laughs, and so does Glimmer. Though she doesn’t know where this meaningful story is going, her mother’s calming voice unwinds the tension in her body bit by bit.

“I loved Micah so much, and I was so ready and so excited to marry him,” says Angella. “But at the same time, I was terrified.” This is uncannily relatable to Glimmer, who rubs her upper arms. Her mom reaches up to smooth a loose strand of hair—the only out of place thing about her, gone in an instant. “I wasn’t entirely calm by the time the wedding began, but I was calm enough that I could take deep breaths and walk down the aisle, and I did. And that day is—I remember it like it was yesterday.” She laughs—a bittersweet one again. “And it’s tied for the best day of my life.”

“What’s it tied with?” whispers Glimmer, and Angella’s smile is worth it.

“The day you were born.”

She pulls Glimmer into a hug, wide arms secure around Glimmer as she leans into the embrace and tucks her head under Angella’s chin like she’s a child seeking comfort from a nightmare. Except this is the polar opposite to a nightmare; Glimmer is sure that, one day, she too will say that her wedding day was the best day of her life. Even if she’s spent the past couple hours on the verge of a panic attack.

“It feels like it was yesterday that you were that small, but now—” Angella exhales and leans back. Her proud, open smile makes Glimmer’s eyes prick at the corners. “Now you’re getting married.”

“I’m getting married,” echoes Glimmer. She still can’t quite comprehend it, though she’s fully realizing the weight of it now. She wipes her eyes. They aren’ watering yet, but she doesn’t want to ruin the makeup she and Bow spent over half an hour on before the ceremony even begins; she has a feeling this is only the beginning of her tears. “I love her so, so, so much, Mom. And I’m—I’m so, so glad that all of this is happening. It’s just—it’s a lot, right?”

“Of course.” Angella’s hands tighten on her shoulders, squeezing tight enough that Glimmer winces and resists teleporting back an inch or two. (It’d be wasteful, she convinces herself.) Angella smiles, more amused than sad now. She leans forward conspiratorially. “Can I tell you something?”

Glimmer nods without a second of hesitation.

“A full month before she proposed, Adora came to me and asked for my blessing.”

“…She did _not_.”

“She did, I swear!” Angella laughs. “She was so serious about it. She told me that she was working on having a ring prepared and that her talking to me was honestly more of a formality than anything else—something she’d heard about courtship on Bright Moon. I told her how outdated it was, of course.”

Glimmer buries her burning head in her hands. She and Adora have been together for so long now, and yet she’s still rendered speechless by something like this. Of course Adora would ask for her mother’s blessing—what an adorably Adora thing to do. And of course her mother would—

Wait.

“You gave her your blessing, right, Mom?” Angella’s smile becomes a little more mischievous. Glimmer flushes harder and backtracks. “I mean, not that I care! It’s such a—a chauvinistic, old tradition. No one even asks for people’s parents’ blessings anymore—it’s not like you have to approve of whom I marry—” She clears her throat. “Asking for a friend… did you tell her she had your blessing?”

Angella full-on giggles. Glimmer doesn’t think she’s ever heard her mother _giggle_ before, so she’s rightly disturbed by the sound.

“Of course I told her she had my firmest approval in asking for your hand, Glimmer. I would have had to be as oblivious as she is to not notice how dedicated she is to you.” Glimmer opens her mouth to defend her wife-to-be (oh, _wow_ ), but she doesn’t think she can. It’s no secret that Adora can be thick-headed at times. “I also refrained from telling her about the multiple times you discussed proposing with me.”

“Mom!”

“Be careful what information you share with me,” says Angella, eyes twinkling. “I kept your secret this time, didn’t I?”

“I guess.” Huffing, Glimmer folds her arms. “I’m still so upset she beat me to the punch. I had the ring in my pocket and everything!” And she had, for the record, reciprocated the proposal less than a minute after Adora had gotten down on one knee. They’d proposed to _each other_ more than anything else, no matter how the history books will color it in Adora’s favor. (Though Glimmer doesn’t mind this nearly as much as she puts on. It’s frustrating, but in a serendipitous sort of way.)

“I know, I know,” soothes Angella. “It would have the same result either way, though, right?” She coughs while Glimmer considers this. “What I’m getting at is, Adora loves you more than anything.”

“Not more than Swift Wind.”

Angella exhales through her nose. Glimmer can tell she’s trying not to roll her eyes—she appreciates the restraint. “All right, Swift Wind is the one thing—animal, I suppose—she might love more than you. But you are the human she loves the most. And aside from him, you’re the most important thing in the whole universe to her. And, well, she’s the most important thing to you.”

Glimmer doesn’t have to think about it before she says, “Yes”—it isn’t until she’s already said (shouted, almost) it that she realizes it hadn’t been a question in the first place.

“Then you’ll be just fine.”

Angella smiles, squeezes Glimmer’s shoulders once more, and slides gracefully to her feet. Her wings fold against her back—subconscious, Glimmer’s follow suit, though she remains seated. She’s kind of scared of how quick her legs will buckle beneath her if she stands without assistance.

She doesn’t have time to find out. A few chords of gentle harp music ring out throughout the palace, and Angella turns.

“It’s time,” she says, holding out her hand.

Glimmer swallows, takes her mom’s outstretched hand, and walks toward the rest of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! if you have time to spare, i greatly appreciate all comments & kudos <3 (also, comments aren't moderated for any particular reason, i just want to test the feature out)
> 
> [tumblr](http://dndbutch.tumblr.com) / [twitter](http://twitter.com/birdmarrow)


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